Sexual Monomorphism
by Esperata
Summary: "In Coridan culture, only women are allowed to practise medicine," Spock stated succinctly. It took Bones a moment to make sense of what was being implied. "You want me to pretend to be a woman?" he yelped.
1. Chapter 1

"Sexual monomorphism? Does that mean they're hermaphrodites? Like slugs?"

"No Captain. The Coridan people have two sexual genders, as the majority of known species do for the benefit of genetic variation. However the outward appearance of each gender is indistinguishable."

Bones leant forward to pick up where Spock left off.

"Half the population produce sperm and half produce eggs, Jim. Just like most everybody else."

"I believe I sufficiently explained that Doctor," Spock noted.

Kirk swivelled in his chair thoughtfully.

"But how would a man know who to approach? I mean, if they're indistinguishable?"

"They are physically indistinguishable," Spock explained promptly, "but culturally very different. The males and females behave in a different manner and dress in an appropriately representative way. There are also strict taboos on acceptable occupations and activities for each gender."

As Jim pondered this rather intriguing prospect, McCoy felt his patience waning.

"How in blazes did we get onto this topic anyway?" he demanded.

Spock raised an eyebrow as he replied.

"The Captain had informed us of Starfleet's priority mission to supply medical aid to Coridan. I was attempting to explain the challenges this would raise due to their sexual monomorphism."

"Challenges? What challenges?"

"As you doubtless remember, my father was instrumental in gaining the Coridan system admittance to the Federation. In exchange for mining rights to dilithium crystals the Federation pledged to supply both defensive and medicinal aid. As we have yet to install any permanent bases, the Coridanites would be well within their rights to cancel their agreement if we fail to assist them in their first plea for help."

"Yeah, I _doubtless_ remember that Mister Spock," McCoy said. "That doesn't explain the challenges you mentioned. Nor the relevance of their sexual monomorphism."

"It is necessary to understand the challenges," Spock continued blithely. "As new members to the Federation, the Coridanites have yet to adapt to other worlds' ways. Given the immediacy of their emergency, there is not time to negotiate the necessary concessions."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Bones huffed.

Kirk rejoined the conversation.

"It means Starfleet has ordered us to render assistance – however we must. The Coridan system is too important to jeopardise by being culturally insensitive."

McCoy looked between Spock and the Captain. He felt a sinking sensation in his gut.

"However we must?" McCoy echoed before looking to Spock. "Say, what did you mean by 'necessary concessions'?"

Spock tilted his head in a way that Bones chose to believe was sympathetic.

"In Coridan culture, only women are allowed to practise medicine," he stated succinctly.

It took Bones a moment to make sense of what was being implied.

"You want me to pretend to be a _woman_?" he yelped. "Oh no! No, no, no!"

"Come on Bones," Jim cajoled. "It won't be that bad."

"No," Leonard said firmly before pleading, "Why can't another ship go? One with a female CMO? They're not that rare you know."

"The _Enterprise_ is the only ship carrying the requisite supplies within a reasonable distance to the Coridan system," Spock answered.

"Whose side are you on anyway?" McCoy snapped.

A raised eyebrow was his only response to that before Spock continued.

"In fact their monomorphism will make the pretence easier. You will only need to make adjustments to your attire and mannerisms."

"Oh! Only!" McCoy crossed his arms defensively.

"It's not that big a deal Bones," Jim replied before standing swiftly. "And it's not up for discussion. We'll reach the Coridan system tomorrow afternoon."

He headed for the door followed by Spock. McCoy sat stewing at the briefing room table. Jim halted in the doorway to look back.

"Get Nyota and Christine to help you," he said more gently before grinning like a Cheshire cat. "They'll get you looking like a Southern Belle.


	2. Chapter 2

To her credit, Christine didn't question why Leonard wanted her to meet him at Lieutenant Uhura's quarters.

She gave him a questioning look as she joined him outside but he simply shook his head and pressed the comm. Moments later, Nyota's lyrical voice called them inside and she smiled widely at them as they entered.

"Don't look so scared Leonard," she coaxed. "We'll make it fun."

As Doctor McCoy looked even more alarmed Christine queried, "I still don't know what we're doing here Nyota."

Nyota laughed lightly. "Why, we're turning our grouchy doctor here into a proper Southern Belle."

As Leonard growled and dropped himself into a chair, the Lieutenant briefly explained what the Captain wanted to Nurse Chapel.

When the room fell silent, the doctor looked up to find both women scrutinising him.

"It's doable," Nyota declared confidently. Chapel nodded agreement.

"I can replicate an appropriate colour scheme," she commented and Nyota nodded.

"His colouration isn't so different to yours is it?"

"What do you mean 'colour scheme'?" the doctor demanded with a frown.

Nyota smiled again as the nurse moved over to the replicator.

"Why make up of course," she replied. The good doctor blanched and Uhura laughed and called over her shoulder to her friend. "We'll need a good blusher to put some colour back into his cheeks."

"Surely I don't need make up?" he pleaded. "I understand I have to wear a dress and I know I'll have to tone down my language some…"

Nyota put her hands on her hips and frowned at him. "There's more to being a woman than a pretty dress and language. You have to project confidence in yourself."

Chapel rejoined her and added, "The other women will notice you far more if you aren't wearing make up. You'll stand out like a sore thumb."

"Especially with the Coridanites," Nyota continued. "Their women are far more interested in accentuating their femininity than a lot of other cultures."

"Probably due to their lack of natural differentiating features," Leonard suggested, distracting himself with the biological aspects of the situation.

"Most likely," Christine agreed taking a seat next to him and laying out the make up she'd just got.

"My God! What's all that for? Surely I won't need all that?" He eyed the array warily.

Nyota pulled up a chair the other side of him. "It's just the basics," she explained.

"Cleanser to prepare the skin, concealer…"

"It's green! I'm not Spock you know."

Both women glared at him simultaneously.

"It's green to hide any red patches on your skin Doctor," Christine replied primly.

"Foundation, powder, blusher, mascara, eyebrow pencil, eyelash curlers, eye shadow…"

"Lilac," Christine explained briefly, "to bring out your eyes."

"Eye liner, lipstick, brushes of course, and tweezers."

The doctor looked horrified.

"And that's the basics is it? Christine I'll never complain you're late again."

She smiled at him. "At least you won't have to worry about styling your hair."

Nyota looked thoughtfully at his hair.

"I do think you should let it fall a little more naturally," she suggested, reaching up and running a hand into it.

"That is going to be the least of my problems," he muttered, once again eyeing the make up. "The time it takes me to plaster this on won't leave me any time to worry about my hair."

"Nonsense," Christine admonished. "If you can perform heart surgery on a Vulcan during an attack on the ship with power failing you'll have no trouble with eyelash curlers."

"Absolutely," Nyota agreed. "Now, stand up."

"What?"

Nyota tugged his arm until he was standing and both women surveyed him up and down.

"What do you think?" Nyota asked Christine. "Something just below the knees?"

"I'm sure Leonard would wear it well but I think he'd feel more comfortable in something ankle length for now."

Despite himself, Bones blushed.

"I supposed it has to have a high neckline too?" Nyota spoke regretfully. Christine looked pensive.

"Dammit," Bones grumbled. "It's going to be worse than those formal dress uniforms."

Chapel smiled at him.

"I think you'll find it's actually a good deal more comfortable than that," she informed him before turning to Nyota again.

"I don't see why we can't experiment with lower necklines," she said. "It's not like he has anything to hide after all."

"Excuse me but don't I have a say in this?"

"Hush now," Nyota admonished. "You'll have your say when you try some things on."

McCoy blanched again.

"I think we should look at longer sleeves for daytime wear but maybe some straps or even off the shoulder dresses for the evening."

"Oh he'd look darling!" Nyota enthused.

"For the evening?" McCoy repeated. "Why do I have to have something specific for the evening?"

"Because no woman in the known universe would wear a daytime dress to a formal evening event," Christine answered simply.

"And honey," Nyota added, "There _will_ be formal evening events."

As Leonard opened his mouth to argue some more he was interrupted by Christine.

"What perfume should he wear?"

Leonard's mouth snapped shut.


	3. Chapter 3

Spock was waiting in the transporter room when the captain arrived.

"Punctual as ever," he greeted the Vulcan cheerfully. Spock merely inclined his head in acknowledgement.

"You seen Bones yet this afternoon?"

"I have not encountered the doctor since our briefing this morning."

Kirk winced slightly. The atmosphere at the morning's briefing hadn't exactly been congenial. Bones was still sulking after spending most of yesterday being fussed over by Nyota and Christine. He hadn't responded well to Jim's questions on the subject and he'd quickly switched tacks to analysing the data from Coridan on their epidemic.

"Well," Jim began, unsure of what to add. He was spared by the door swishing open as Doctor McCoy arrived with Nurse Chapel.

"You won't forget to drag Scotty in for his check up?" the doctor was saying but what Christine's reply was, no-one could say. Everyone's focus was on the doctor.

He was wearing a relatively simple dress. It had a long silken skirt that swirled about him as he stepped up onto the platform, with some additional ruffles along one side. The top fit snugly and was decorated with buttons down the front. The sleeves ended at his elbows with black cuffs that matched the high black collar. The rest of the dress was a rich royal blue.

Jim's eyes finally found their way back to the doctor's face. He was staring at him with one eyebrow raised.

"We ready?" the doctor enquired, possibly for the second time. Or third.

"You're wearing make up," Jim replied stupidly.

Bones rolled his eyes. "As per _your_ orders Jim," he said pointedly. "Now are we ready to beam down or not? The sooner we get this show on the road the sooner I can get back to normalcy."

Kirk glanced at Spock but the Vulcan was still staring at McCoy. Instead Jim looked over to where Riley was manning the transporter controls.

"Energise Mr Riley," he announced.

Riley blinked and turned his attention back to the panel in front of him. The last thing Jim saw before they dematerialised though was Riley staring once again at Bones.

As they appeared on the planet's surface, a trio of Coridanites were ready to greet them.

Their facial features and body structure were remarkably similar. At first glance it would be difficult to say which of the androgynous people were male or female if not for the adornments. In fact it was obvious two were women.

The leader stepped towards him smiling beatifically.

She was wearing an elegant gown in a bright floral pattern that flowed behind her. There were flowers decorating her short hair and petals painted on her cheeks.

"Welcome," she said extending her hands. Her voice was deeper than he'd been expecting. "I am Chancellor Maev."

Still, she wore a pleasant perfume and her smile gave her somewhat masculine face a sweetness that appealed to him.

"It is a pleasure to be here," Jim replied with a matching smile as he gripped her hands. "Allow me to introduce my officers."

He turned towards Spock. "My First Officer, Mister Spock." The Vulcan nodded.

Kirk turned towards Bones. "And my Chief Medical Officer…" he hesitated momentarily, "Doctor McCoy."

To his utter astonishment, Bones curtsied.

"It's just charming to meet y'all," he drawled softly.

The Chancellor smiled widely and likewise turned to her companions. "This is my Chief Advisor Traeg and my own Chief Medical Officer Kalev."

Kalev stepped forward to clasp McCoy's hands.

"I look forward to working with you," she said. "Let me show you to the hospital."

Kirk watched as his best friend was led away arm in arm with the Coridanite. He felt Maev lay a hand on his arm.

"Kalev will take care of your officer," she reassured him.

"Oh I don't doubt it," Jim turned back to her with a charming smile. "I just sometimes forget how resilient Doctor McCoy is."

The Chancellor looked to where the doctors were walking together with a synchronous sway of the hips.

"Doctor McCoy does have a delightful sensuality," she commented.

Kirk almost choked but Spock replied without hesitation.

"That is certainly true."


	4. Chapter 4

The Coridanites, while obviously not used to playing host to alien diplomats, were clearly doing their best. The Starfleet officers were taken to a small house near to both the hospital and their centre of government. It was comfortable and well stocked, with several bedrooms all with ensuite bathrooms. Kirk and Spock settled into the living room to await Bones' return.

"Did you see him curtsy?" Jim asked.

"I did," Spock replied.

"And did you hear him? _Y'all_ ," Kirk tried to mimic Bones' Georgian accent.

"My hearing is superior to humans," Spock reminded his captain. "I did indeed hear him."

Jim wasn't paying much attention.

"I thought it'd be funny seeing him all dressed up. I didn't expect him to wear it so well."

There was a long silence. Jim glanced at his friend.

"What did you think of how he looked?"

Spock hesitated as he chose his words.

"The doctor's dress was well suited to him." He raised an eyebrow at Jim. "I believe credit for that must go to Lieutenant Uhura and Nurse Chapel."

Jim grinned.

"Would it kill you to compliment him? He isn't here to hear you."

Spock stared at Jim who just stared straight back. Eventually Spock gave in.

"The doctor's acting ability was beyond what I had expected of him."

"That'll do," Jim said, leaning back and staring at the ceiling.

His mind was beginning to drift when the door opened and Bones swept in.

"Lord! My feet are killing me."

He flung himself into a chair and unceremoniously pulled off his boots. Jim suddenly realised they weren't his usual Starfleet footwear.

"Bones," Jim grinned. "Are those-?"

Blue eyes flashed at him. "Nyota refused to let me pack my ordinary boots." He turned his glare onto Spock. "And if you have anything to say I suggest you keep it to yourself."

Spock had in fact been remembering when he'd had to help the doctor remove his boots, subsequent to their mission on Ekos, and how he'd privately noted then how well formed the doctor's calves were.

He had fully intended keeping this thought to himself.

"So how was everything at the hospital?" Jim asked.

"Oh they're well organised enough," Bones began.

Spock only half listened as the doctor ran through what would need to be done to help the Coridanites eradicate the new disease that had taken hold. The other half of him was cataloguing the changes in the doctor's appearance and trying to reconcile those with the changes in Spock's perception of him.

It was illogical that his opinion of the man should be so drastically altered by changes to his outward appearance but he couldn't deny the unusual reactions he was experiencing.

Of course it wasn't _that_ unusual that he thought to touch the doctor. Of all his acquaintances he undoubtedly chose close contact most with the captain and the doctor. It enabled him to better assess their emotional reactions and thereby more easily understand their words and actions.

What was unusual was his desire to touch the doctor not for greater understanding but more for the tactile pleasure it would bring.

Spock concluded this must be the choice of fabric. Silk was a pleasant fabric to handle.

He also concluded that his instinct to protect the Doctor wasn't too unusual either. As a healer, Doctor McCoy was less skilled in conflict situations and therefore did require a greater degree of protection.

This instinct was obviously exacerbated now by the make up that softened the doctor's features. His blue eyes seemed particularly vivid and vulnerable.

"Hell Jim!" McCoy rose suddenly in an angry flurry of fabric. "Why didn't you tell me we were due out? I gotta change."

As he stormed out of the room, Jim shared a stunned look with Spock.

"Mister Spock I think we've created a monster."


	5. Chapter 5

"Doctor McCoy, are you not ready yet?" Spock carefully kept any hint of emotion out of his voice.

"Dammit." McCoy's voice was muffled somewhat by the door panel but still perfectly audible to the Vulcan.

As were the sudden footsteps before the door was pulled open.

Leonard sighed heavily.

"Tell me honestly Spock. Does my make up look okay to you?"

Spock stared at him, eyes drifting over lightly dusted cheeks, slightly shiny lips and finally settling on those wide eyes.

"I believe your surgeon's hands do you credit Doctor. Your make up appears perfectly applied."

McCoy blinked in surprise and Spock noted the lashes that seemed longer than he'd realised before. A slow smile spread across the doctor's lips.

"Why Mister Spock, that sounded like a compliment," he drawled.

"A mere statement of fact," Spock rebuffed, stepping aside to gesture McCoy before him.

The doctor headed down the hall and Spock had the chance to survey his new outfit.

The skirt was just as long as the previous one but made of a heavier material that fell in folds. There was a tie about his waist and another tight top, this time sleeveless and ending just beneath his armpits. It appeared to be made of velvet. The entire ensemble was a dark green – almost black.

A wolf whistle from ahead announced that Jim had seen the doctor.

"Looking good Bones," he laughed.

Bones scowled but wasn't put off.

"At least my neck's not in a sling," he shot back. Jim chuckled good naturedly as they headed out and across to the reception.

Spock cleared his throat to attract the doctor's attention.

"It is customary for unmarried women to be accompanied by a chaperone," he informed him. "As the captain is likely to be detained by the Chancellor, I shall perform that role."

"You're going to protect my honour Spock?" McCoy teased.

Spock raised an eyebrow.

"I do not anticipate that being a problem," he replied.

Bones frowned.

"No need to be nasty about it," he muttered.

Jim shot them both a look but kept out of it.

Spock continued. "Coridan custom also dictates that women do not help themselves to food. If you wish for anything, you are to ask me."

"Yeah, yeah," Bones agreed, clearly not in the mood to tease anymore.

They entered the spacious atrium and were immediately met by Chancellor Maev.

"Jim! I was beginning to fear you had gotten lost."

"Sorry Chancellor." He flashed her a charming smile. "Doctor McCoy was delayed getting ready."

"No matter." She turned to smile at McCoy. "I see the time was well spent."

"At least someone appreciates it," he muttered out of the side of his mouth to Spock.

"I never intimated your efforts were in vain Doctor," he replied quietly.

"No," McCoy hissed back. "You just intimated nobody would look twice at me."

"I merely suggested it unlikely I would be called upon to defend your honour."

"Meaning you don't think I could possibly interest anyone here."

"I did not-"

He was interrupted by Captain Kirk clearing his throat loudly.

"Gentlemen," he said before hurriedly correcting himself. "And ladies." He smiled widely at the group around them. "Perhaps we should go in?"

"Indeed." Maev took his arm and led him into the dining hall.

Spock extended his own arm to Doctor McCoy who crossed his arms and looked annoyed.

"Doctor." The Vulcan didn't sigh. "I have every expectation you could charm whomsoever you wished at this gathering. I only feel your honour is not at stake because your own moral code prevents it."

McCoy lowered his arms and began to smile.

"Why sir," he linked his arm to Spock's. "That's mighty sweet of y'all to say."

Spock kept quiet and postulated why a Georgian accent should resonate so deeply in his memory.


	6. Chapter 6

Spock was kneeling on his meditation mat when he heard the knock at his door.

His eyes opened and he took a second to focus on his surroundings. As he remembered where he was – Coridan, guest house, bedroom – and when it was – after the formal banquet, late, gone midnight – he heard the knock again, slightly more hesitant.

He rose swiftly and crossed quickly to the door.

It wasn't a surprise to see McCoy on the other side but Spock was slightly taken aback to recognise the doctor had removed his make up. It was somewhat incongruous given he was still wearing his gown.

"Did I wake ya?" he asked softly.

Spock shook his head. "I was meditating."

"Oh. Sorry to interrupt." McCoy shifted awkwardly.

"Is there something you required my assistance with?"

"Yeah." McCoy ran a hand through his hair. Spock watched as if fell back in a messy heap and refrained from attempting to tidy it.

"I can't reach to undo this blasted dress," McCoy finally admitted.

Spock blinked.

"How did you fasten it to begin with?"

"Jim helped."

Spock frowned in confusion.

"Why do you not ask for his assistance now?"

McCoy laughed wryly. "He ain't back yet," he drawled.

"Ah." Spock recalled Chancellor Maev showing particular interest in the captain over dinner. It was not surprising that Jim had yet to return.

"Very well," Spock agreed. "Turn around."

"Can we go back to my room first?" Leonard asked. "It may be illogical but I don't like the idea of walking about the corridors half naked."

Spock nodded and gestured for McCoy to go ahead. It was silent except for the swishing of McCoy's velvet skirt.

Spock recalled that velvet was also a pleasant material to handle.

Once in McCoy's room the doctor stopped and waited. Spock stepped forward and gripped the zip. He managed to pull in down almost half way before it caught.

"It, er, did that when Jim pulled it up," McCoy informed him.

Spock raised the zip slightly and laid his hand on the doctor's shoulder to steady proceedings. Despite his mental shields he could still feel the doctor's emotions bubbling. They were always more vibrant than other humans.

Nervousness seemed to be dominant and Spock theorised the doctor was concerned he would be unable to remove the dress without damaging the join.

Much more slowly, he ran the zip down the rest of the doctor's back. He quickly stepped away when he reached the base.

"There's a little catch at the top," Leonard said over his shoulder, still sounding nervous.

Spock looked up from where his gaze had been focused at the base of Leonard's spine and realised there was a tiny fastening at the top, presumably to prevent the zip being pulled loose as the doctor moved. He stepped forward again and delicately unclipped it.

This time the doctor quickly stepped away, holding the dress up against him despite having nothing to hide.

"Well, er, thanks." He remained focused away from the Vulcan.

"You are welcome." Spock inclined his head and turned for the door.

"Spock," McCoy called before he could leave. Spock turned back and met the doctor's gaze. The man appeared slightly flustered.

"I may need some help in the morning. You know, if Jim's not back."

Spock considered this a moment.

"That is logical," he agreed. "I shall be willing to assist you as required."

McCoy grinned.

"Right, well, good night Spock."

"Good night Doctor."

Spock returned to his room and settled himself back upon his meditation mat. As he began with simple breathing exercises he let his mind drift.

It was unsurprising that his thoughts were all upon the doctor's changed appearance.

 _Breathe in…1…2…3…4_

His fingers could still sense the doctor's skin beneath his fingers. So fragile. So delicate.

 _Breathe out…1…2…3…4_

He recalled how different the doctor's hair had looked. Soft. Touchable.

 _Breathe in…1…2…3…4_

The thought of how he may have to help the doctor dress in the morning struck him as necessary of further consideration. There were after all, many methods of fastening garments.

Spock did not want to be unprepared when called upon to assist.


	7. Chapter 7

Spock knocked without hesitation on the doctor's door. It was of course illogical to hesitate when his presence had been requested.

Or if not precisely requested, at least suggested as possibly useful.

He briefly wondered if he should have checked Jim's room first. The doctor may well prefer the captain's assistance after all. However his calculations indicated the likelihood so low that Jim would have returned last night that it was illogical to waste time checking.

The door opened to reveal Leonard wrapped in a towel, his hair looking particularly fluffy. Apparently the doctor had awoken early enough to shower.

"Ah. Spock."

The doctor stood back and gestured the Vulcan inside. As Spock turned to speak to him he noticed a pink flush to McCoy's cheeks that he had failed to notice previously.

"I see the water was sufficiently heated for you."

"What?"

Spock gestured towards the doctor.

"You are still flushed," he explained.

"Oh!" McCoy dropped his head away from the Vulcan's gaze and headed back towards his bed. "Yeah, the water was pretty warm."

As his eyes followed the doctor's movements, Spock noticed clothing laid out ready on the bed. He registered a delicate pair of ankle boots on the floor, a pale green dress and what at this distance appeared to be a pair of white stockings.

"Do you mind, ah, turning around?"

Spock looked back to find Leonard watching him with what appeared to be mild exasperation. He considered pointing out that there was no reason to be embarrassed about the naked body but quickly realised McCoy would probably not react well to that. He obligingly turned his back.

It was easy enough to follow the man's actions from the sounds. First was the faint whump of his towel being dropped. Then shuffling of feet as underwear was stepped into. Spock wondered momentarily if the doctor's disguise was truly complete. He had not spied any boxers or briefs laid out.

The bed springs creaked as the doctor sat, presumably to pull on the stockings, and then there was more shuffling as the dress was pulled up.

"Um, okay," McCoy announced.

Spock turned around to see McCoy's spine presented to him again. In the morning's light his back seemed particularly pale and the bones too prominent.

He stepped forward and reached for the zip.

This dress had three quarter length sleeves that held the top half up so it was unnecessary for him to hold the doctor's shoulder this time. In a moment of indulgence though, he allowed the back of his hand to run up the doctor's spine as he carefully raised the zip.

Merely to test the prominence of his spinal column. Someone needed to monitor the doctor's apparent weight loss.

The action caused a shiver to run though the other man and he cleared his throat nervously.

"Um, thank you Spock." He stepped away and picked up his discarded towel. "If ya don't mind waiting ten minutes we could get breakfast together," he suggested.

"Indeed. I do believe it would be prudent to ensure you get a sufficient calorie intake. You are verging on being emaciated."

The doctor glared at him.

"Emaciated my ass! I'll have you know my BMI is perfect."

As he stormed into the bathroom, Spock let the matter drop. He did however resolve to endeavour to tempt the doctor with suitably calorific treats. Where logic and reasoning would fail, he firmly believed a sugary glaze would succeed.

It was in fact over fifteen minutes before the doctor was ready to go downstairs for breakfast. They were both surprised to find Kirk already there nursing a coffee.

"Jim! Thought you stopped out all night."

Jim actually glared at the doctor although what he had said to elicit such a response eluded Spock.

"You might have warned me Bones!"

"'Bout what?" McCoy answered unconcernedly as he fetched his own drink.

"About just how far the similarities between male and female Coridanites go," Jim replied with a pissed off frown.

McCoy sat with a confused look and Spock took the opportunity to push the pastries nearer to him while he was focused on the captain. Suddenly a wide grin split the doctor's face.

"Oh!" he declared. "I get yer."

"It wasn't funny," Jim told him.

"I do not understand what the problem is," Spock interrupted, as McCoy unconsciously picked up a snack and bit into it happily.

"The problem, Mister Spock," Jim announced, "Is that the woman I went home with was equipped just the same as me."

Spock frowned.

"And you were surprised?" he queried. "I believe we did cover sexual monomorphism at the pre-mission briefing."

"I imagine it put you off your stride somewhat," Bones interrupted gleefully.

Jim's glare could have frozen a volcano.

"I imagine it would have got _your_ motor running," he snapped back. McCoy's glee evaporated and he stood abruptly.

"Delightful though this conversation is, some of us have work to do. Gentlemen." He stalked out of the house, the door slamming behind him.

Jim sighed.

"Damn," he muttered. Spock raised an eyebrow.

"I do not believe the doctor appreciates being teased about his current manner of dress," he reprimanded gently. Jim gave him a long, searching look before responding.

"I know. I'll apologise later if he lets me. In the meantime you better watch out for him. I doubt he'll let me close enough for a while."


	8. Chapter 8

The day was uneventful for Spock. Doctor McCoy was busy organising the medical teams. He was overseeing the distribution of medicine and the cascading of treatment methods. Not difficult but time consuming. Spock saw him occasionally heading from place to place, his green dress catching the light and giving it a soft yellow sheen rather like an Earth apple.

Spock found himself for some reason reminded of the Terran myth of Adam and Eve.

The captain was also fully occupied but for a less dignified reason.

He had excused himself the previous night under pretext of an allergic reaction. He was now attempting to keep out of the way of Chancellor Maev without giving offense. This was made doubly difficult by Doctor McCoy's unwillingness to aid him. Consequently Jim accompanied Spock on a cultural tour to learn more about the Coridan culture.

When they arrived back at their accommodation it was later than Spock would have liked due to Jim's unwillingness to give Maev time to catch him before that evening's formal dinner.

McCoy was already back and apparently in the shower from the sounds of running water. Spock retreated to his own room to don his dress uniform and then wondered if he should knock again on the doctor.

There was no doubt Bones would not be asking Jim for his help any time soon. It was possible McCoy did not require any assistance but Spock reasoned it was better to ask and be sure.

When he knocked this time the doctor did not open the door but replied.

"That you Jim?"

Spock wondered if perhaps the doctor would still prefer the captain's aid to his, even after the morning's falling out.

"It is Spock," he answered. "Would you like for me to fetch the captain?"

"Lord no! Come in."

He entered and saw the doctor again wrapped in a towel but this time standing before the wardrobe. The man glanced back and Spock saw his make up was already applied. He also detected a new scent.

"Is that peaches?" he enquired.

"Yeah. Nyota and Christine insisted it was perfect for me."

"It does seem fitting," Spock offered.

He watched as McCoy continued to stare into the cupboard.

"May I enquire what you are looking for?"

The doctor glanced back again.

"I can't decide what I should wear," he muttered.

Spock stepped up beside him and surveyed the few dresses. His eye was caught by a purple gown in satin and he pulled it out.

"I believe this would be appropriate."

He held it between them as if assessing its fitness. It had a halter neck and he wondered if the doctor would actually require any assistance to don it.

"Alright," the physician drawled softly.

He carefully took the dress and headed across to his bed to lay it out. There was no command to turn around so Spock did not.

The doctor was wearing boxers beneath his towel. Spock observed the material stretch as the man bent to pull on a fresh pair of white stockings. He then slipped the dress up over his head and tugged it down so it fit properly about his waist.

Half turning he raised an arm and asked,

"Help me with the zip?"

Spock noted a short zip up the side of the dress. It did not appear that inaccessible to him but he didn't argue and stepped forward. The doctor turned his face away and the sound of the zip seemed unnaturally loud in the quiet of his room.

Spock fastened the little hook at the top and then found himself lingering. He wasn't sure why until the doctor looked back at him curiously.

"The colour tones well with your eye shadow," Spock informed him.

The doctor smiled.


	9. Chapter 9

That evening's dinner felt much more relaxed. At least for Spock and McCoy. McCoy didn't falter in asking Spock for whatever caught his fancy and Spock was attentive in offering what he thought might appeal.

He took particular care to select the dishes which might add some weight to the doctor. There were plenty of nut recipes prepared to cater to vegetarians and McCoy seemed to enjoy those.

It was only logical after noticing the slightness of McCoy's frame.

The captain however was clearly having a difficult time of it.

Chancellor Maev was trying to monopolise him in conversation again but Jim was refusing to be trapped. Every dialogue was extended towards other table companions. No one could accuse him of being rude as he was in fact being liberally inclusive but Maev's disappointment was obvious.

The main course had no sooner been concluded than he darted down to whisper hurriedly to his officers.

"Gentlemen I am ordering you to assist me," he hissed. "She wants me to promise her every dance!"

"Dance?" Bones queried with a frown. "No one said anything to me about a dance."

"We were informed yesterday after being escorted to our lodging," Spock informed him.

"And you didn't think to damn well tell me?" McCoy demanded. Spock raised an eyebrow.

"I do not see how informing you earlier would have altered anything."

"I don't have the first idea how to perform their dances! What if one of them asks me to dance?" he asked with a hint of panic.

"How likely is that?" Jim interrupted impatiently. "Have you had any of them hovering about you? Now can we focus on helping me?"

Bones glared.

"Some way to get help Jim. Insulting a man like that."

"I wasn't insulting you," Kirk snapped. "But it's a fact that _I'm_ the one with the overly attentive native."

"If I might make a suggestion."

Jim turned to look hopefully at his First Officer.

"Perhaps I should engage the doctor for the evening's dances. I studied the most common forms when I was out with the captain today and, if Doctor McCoy will permit a light telepathic connection, I could share that knowledge."

Jim gaped.

"How will that help me with the Chancellor?"

"It will not, however you did yourself instruct me to 'watch out for' Doctor McCoy. I believe those orders, and the mission requirements, take precedence over your current predicament."

"Sounds like a plan to me," Bones agreed smugly. "Besides which Jim, you encouraged the lady. Up to you to let her down gently now."

Jim scowled again and Spock decided it was better to intervene now before another argument could commence.

"Your strategy over dinner should also serve you well this evening Captain. It is only polite to offer a dance to as many partners as are willing."

Kirk glanced round the room and apparently concluded that was a tactic he could work with. He nodded.

As waiters arrived bearing various desserts, he vacated back to his allocated place.

"Ooh, those sure look nice," McCoy commented as he eyed the offerings.

"What will you try?" Spock asked, counting and comparing calorie values.

"I'll just have some fruit," the doctor said somewhat wistfully. "Too much sugar's bad for the arteries you know."

"That is true," Spock conceded. "However I do believe you should partake this evening if you wish to have sufficient energy for tonight's dancing."

"Planning to whisk me off my feet are we?"

"I would not wish you to faint on me Doctor. Besides which it might reflect poorly on our hosts if you do not sample the food they have prepared."

In truth McCoy required very little persuasion.

"Alright then," he agreed. "How about you cut me a piece of that cake over there."

Spock carefully did not let his smile show as he helped the doctor to his sugary treat.


	10. Chapter 10

Before any dancing could commence there was the requisite mingling. Jim's mood visibly improved as he manoeuvred around the room apparently promising dances to everyone he encountered. McCoy hoped the man saved at least one for the Chancellor.

Leonard had been trying to keep close to Spock. It wasn't that he was wary of the natives but he didn't want to give any of them a chance to request a dance. Though despite what he'd said to both Spock and Jim, he was under no illusions about his appeal. Mutton dressed as lamb, as his mother would say.

He ran his fingers across the satin skirt and smiled briefly. The dress was beautiful. He felt almost like he was letting it down.

"Doctor Kalev was most enthused about your methodology."

"Hhmm?" Bones looked up as he realised he was being addressed by Traeg. "Oh, that's just good ol' Southern practicality."

"Well it has been much appreciated. Our doctors are now halting this virulent disease."

"Glad to have been of help." Bones smiled.

"Perhaps I might express our gratitude by offering a dance with the lovely visitor?"

For a second or two, Bones genuinely didn't know who he was referring to. Then he blushed bright scarlet.

"Oh! That's mighty flattering. I… umm…"

A familiar figure seemingly materialised beside him.

"Doctor McCoy is promised to me for this evening's dances," Spock's voice spoke stoically.

"All of them?"

"All," Spock responded swiftly.

"Pity," the Coridanite said before bowing slightly and retreating.

Spock watched him go with dark eyes.

"Perhaps we should engage in dancing to discourage further attention," he suggested.

McCoy looked up at him with a grin.

"You worried about my honour now?" he queried.

"It is highly probably your appearance will draw several more offers," the Vulcan stated simply. Bones blinked.

"You saying I look pretty?"

Spock finally met his eyes.

"Doctor, it is a fact that you look, as you say, 'pretty'. Or have you failed to notice the admiring glances you are receiving?"

McCoy was too flustered to reply and bought himself time by glancing round. Now Spock had pointed it out, he saw there were several glances in his direction.

"Well I'll be," he murmured softly.

He was brought back to the moment by Spock extending his hand to him.

"Shall we?"

McCoy briefly met the Vulcan's obsidian eyes before silently putting his hand in his. Spock led him towards the other dancers and suddenly McCoy remembered why he hadn't wanted to dance.

"Spock," he hissed. "I still don't know what I'm doing!"

"If you will allow me?" Spock raised an eyebrow to convey his meaning and Leonard glanced at their joined hands. He nodded swiftly.

Spock manoeuvred them into position, keeping their hands joined but raising his other hand to rest on the doctor's shoulder.

"I shall not consciously enter your mind but simply share my thoughts of the movements required. Do not focus on it but let your instinct pick up the impression from my mind."

Bones nodded mutely. Spock met his eyes again as he continued.

"And Doctor? Do not lose contact with me."

So saying he pulled the doctor into motion.

McCoy felt a momentary panic as his feet stumbled to follow but surprisingly they fell into step.

The dance was quicker than a waltz and more complex but it reminded Bones of that none-the-less. Perhaps it was their dance position. Whatever it was, it felt altogether natural and McCoy felt himself beginning to relax and enjoy it.

As his skirt swirled about them he mused that perhaps he wasn't such a let down for it after all.


	11. Chapter 11

The dancing continued all evening and into the night. Spock and McCoy remained together throughout although they did stop occasionally for refreshments.

Each time they returned to the dance floor, their hold became slightly closer, a little more intimate.

The last dance set was obviously intended for couples and Spock had shifted so one hand was holding McCoy's waist and the other was resting on his neck, his fingers brushing underneath the halter to maintain telepathic contact.

Leonard had long since taken to resting his hands about the Vulcan's waist.

Jim had called it a night during their last refreshment break. Neither Spock nor McCoy had offered to accompany him and he hadn't asked. Instead he'd left them with instructions to enjoy their last night on the planet.

Neither queried whether they wished to keep dancing. Both simply kept up their gentle conversation as they moved instinctively together.

Spock couldn't remember the last time he and the doctor had engaged in such prolonged discourse without argument. Of course their conversation hadn't contained much of import. It was primarily an excuse not to have to stop dancing.

They were quiet now though and Spock couldn't help but pick up the doctor's sleepiness through the skin contact. He wondered if he should suggest retiring for the night or whether that would put the doctor's hackles up.

McCoy chose that moment to drop his forehead down against Spock's chest.

"You are tired, Doctor," Spock murmured softly.

"Yeah," McCoy agreed genially.

"We should stop," Spock suggested, although he continued to lead them slowly through the steps.

"Not yet." McCoy turned his head so it was more comfortably resting on Spock's shoulder. "This is the nicest evening I've had in a long, long while," he admitted.

They were silent a minute before Spock confessed,

"It has been pleasant for me also."

He could feel the doctor's smile against his chest.

"Did it hurt ya to admit that?" he asked.

"No," Spock replied. He cautiously shifted his arm to hold the doctor more securely. "I would in fact appreciate more time to engage in conversation of mutual interest."

McCoy pulled back to look at him.

"You want to spend more time with me?"

"That is what I implied."

"You mean in the labs or…" The doctor fell silent so Spock completed his thought.

"I mean off duty when we are less likely to be in conflict over how best to protect Jim from his own ideas."

"You wanna meet up for off duty conversations?" McCoy's eyes shifted away to stare at nothing and Spock allowed himself a moment to truly see him. The man was beautiful, inside and out.

"I want to engage in all the activities expected of a courting couple," he stated.

That brought McCoy's eyes back to his.

"Courting?" he echoed.

"If you will accept me as a suitor," Spock allowed. A few seconds passed before a slow smile spread across the doctor's face.

"I think I could accept that," he drawled.

They stood and looked at each other, seeing each other for the first time as more than friends.

"The music has stopped," Spock suddenly realised.

"So it has," McCoy agreed. "You going to walk me home then?"

Spock shifted his hold so he was holding the doctor to him by the waist and guided him out of the hall.

They were silent on the short journey back but comfortable in each others' presence. McCoy continued to let his head rest against Spock.

It wasn't until they reached the landing of their accommodation that they spoke.

"Will you help me with the zip again?" McCoy's eyes seemed strangely bright in the darkness. Spock nodded and followed the doctor into his room.

The doctor turned so Spock could access the short zip and the Vulcan almost tenderly undid the dress.

McCoy let it drop and turned back to the Vulcan, winding his hands around his neck.

"Stay with me?" he asked.

"You are tired," Spock reminded him without making any effort to move away.

"I know." He dropped his forehead back onto Spock's chest. "I just want you here with me though."

"Very well," Spock agreed and led the sleepy doctor back onto his bed.


	12. Chapter 12

"No need to ask if you two had a good time last night."

Kirk's voice radiated sufficient smugness to perforate even Bones' sleepy mind. The doctor raised his face and tried to glare. It had an effect just not the one he was expecting.

"My God!" Jim leaned closer in obvious concern. "What happened to you? Did you get in a fight?"

"The doctor neglected to remove his eye make up last night due to his extreme fatigue." The Vulcan sounded damnably calm for someone caught in a man's bed by his captain.

Kirk grinned once again in obvious amusement.

"Well you better tidy yourself up Doctor. We have to say farewell to the Coridanites in 45 minutes."

"50.25 minutes," Spock corrected automatically.

Bones waved an expressive hand at Jim.

"Alright, alright. Scram so I can get up."

"It's nothing I haven't seen before Bones."

This time the doctor's glare had the required effect.

"Okay. I'll see you both downstairs in half an hour."

As Jim left the room Bones hauled himself out of the bed and ran a hand somewhat awkwardly through his hair. Spock watched passively. The doctor was silent as he made his way to the wardrobe and contemplated the dresses inside.

"Will you keep them?" Spock asked placidly, somewhat unnerved by the unusual quietness.

McCoy reached out a hand to stroke the fabric and didn't look round.

"Do you want me to?" he replied.

Spock recognised the unspoken question just as he recognised the doctor's obvious tactic to avoid letting Spock see his expression. Clearly the doctor didn't want to influence the Vulcan's answer.

The importance of the inherent question prompted Spock to rise and approach the other man.

"My attraction to you is irrespective of your choice of clothing," he spoke seriously.

"It ain't?" McCoy ducked his head.

Spock remained a pace behind the doctor and spoke softly but sincerely.

"I am attracted to your quick mind and intelligence. To the dedication you have to your profession. I admire your confidence with your own emotions and your skill dealing with others. I appreciate your stubbornness in doing or saying what you believe to be the right thing."

McCoy remained silent with his head bowed. Spock risked touching a hand to the prominent shoulder bone before him. "I find the delicate nature of your bone structure appealing. I desire strongly to protect you from harm. Your eyes have always offered comfort. Even in your fiercest tirades they have conveyed your emotions more clearly to me than anything else. And," he added thoughtfully, "You have most attractive calves."

A surprised laugh broke Leonard's silence and he turned to look up at Spock with a smile.

"Attractive calves?" he asked, amused.

"Indeed." Spock nodded. "I have noted this on several previous occasions."

Leonard continued to smile at him.

"Although the dresses served to reveal these aspects of my attraction to you, they did not cause it," Spock concluded.

"So you don't mind if I keep the dresses or not?" he queried.

"It is illogical to assign gender to clothing," he suggested in reply. "If you are comfortable then that is enough."

McCoy let out a dramatic sigh.

"Spock, just tell me. Do you find me attractive in the dresses?"

"I find you attractive all the time," he responded promptly before quickly laying a finger against the doctor's lip to prevent a rant. "However it is undeniable that the dresses highlight a number of your more appealing characteristics."

"Well then," McCoy drawled happily. "Guess I could keep them for a bit." He turned back to the wardrobe. "Which should I wear today?"

Spock glanced over his shoulder and quickly pulled out the blue dress McCoy had beamed down in.

"This one," he suggested.

"That one again?" McCoy's eyebrow rose.

"You wore it very little on the first day. It would be illogical to waste resources cleaning a dress that has hardly been worn. As you shall be changing once we return to the ship, it makes sense to reuse a previous hardly worn gown."

McCoy continued to stare at him expectantly.

"I find the colour and style to suit you very well," Spock amended.

"Then I'll wear this one," McCoy agreed. "Now scoot back to your room so I can grab a shower."

"You do not require assistance?"

"We don't have time for you to join me in the shower." McCoy laughed and pressed a quick kiss to the Vulcan's lips to stop him objecting that wasn't what he'd meant.

"Don't worry," he said. "The waist's elasticated and the top buttons down the front. Now scoot or we'll be late."


	13. Chapter 13

Spock recalculated the chances that McCoy would not turn up. The probability rose with each additional minute he waited.

It had been several months since their mission to Coridan and they had settled into an easy steady relationship. They did not share quarters, and most of the crew were still unaware, but both considered it a long term commitment. In recognition of that, Leonard had decided this evening's party was the perfect opportunity to 'come out', as he put it.

In actuality, their closest friends already knew. Jim, obviously, had encountered them together at the very start. He swore he'd known they'd end up together long before that and had in fact been privy to Bones' infatuation for quite some time.

Christine also had been taken into Leonard's confidence early on, which had meant Nyota found out as well. Spock had actually been very grateful to her for her advice on several occasions already and didn't regret her being informed.

Scotty had discovered accidently when he and McCoy had spent an evening drinking together on shore leave. Spock had been a trifle irritated by that but McCoy had proved quite repentant.

So Spock was confident that it was not their relationship that might deter Leonard from coming. It was his choice of what to wear.

Leonard had decided it was about time to be honest with his friends about his penchant for beautiful dresses.

It wasn't that he wore them all the time. Day to day he was quite comfortable in male attire. However on special occasions, such as quiet dinners with Spock, he enjoyed dressing up.

'Making an effort' was how he often referred to it.

And this party, as he'd explained earlier, would be the ideal location to show off the new dress Spock had bought for him.

Spock however was beginning to think he should have insisted on accompanying Leonard here.

A quiet chorus of gasps drew his attention back and his eyes swiftly fixated on the figure in the doorway. Leonard looked frankly terrified but then his eyes found Spock's and he visibly calmed.

He was wearing the dress and Spock allowed the corners of his lips to twitch upwards slightly. The action relaxed the doctor further and he found the confidence to move forward into the room.

The shot silk fabric shifted from purple through to orange as light caught his movement. The metres of material were draped and pinned to show off the narrow waist and accentuate the breadth of his chest. Not that McCoy had much breadth of chest but the effect was visible none-the-less. It swept down to trail about his ankles and Spock regretted briefly that it hid the doctor's calves.

His eyes snapped back up as Leonard arrived in front of him with a wafted scent of peaches. Whispers were audible about the room but the couple were silent for a moment before Spock said quietly,

"You look enchanting."

The last of McCoy's nervousness vanished in a smile.

"That supposed to be a witchdoctor jab?" he enquired teasingly, nevertheless bouncing slightly on his toes.

"Not at all," Spock assured him. "Merely a statement of fact."

He guided the doctor across to where Scotty was serving punch from a bowl. Although his enhanced hearing could have easily detected the sudden flurry of conversations starting round the room, he ignored them all.

Ahead of them Scotty was downing something likely to be considerably stronger than standard punch. He felt the tension in McCoy as they stopped in front of his long-time drinking friend.

"Two drinks if you please Mr Scott," Spock requested in order to break the awkward silence.

"Aye, right you are." Scotty used the distraction to bring his scattered thoughts back under control and when he handed the drinks over it was with a genuine smile.

"You know Doctor," he said. "Isn't anything wrong with showing a bit o' leg. Scottish men take pride in strong leg muscles."

"Well I ain't Scottish," McCoy responded, clearly relieved. "In Georgia, it's not dignified to show even an ankle."

"A great pity," Spock chimed in. "The doctor has most attractive legs."

Scotty nearly choked.

"I'm beginning to think you have a leg fetish Mister Spock," Jim commented as he joined them.

"I assure you I am only interested in one set of legs."

"Good," McCoy declared. "I don't want to see you eyeing up Scotty's legs when he's next in his kilt."

"Aye. Don't take this the wrong way but I don't neither," Scotty added.

Spock raised an eyebrow but didn't dignify that with a response.

Jim smiled as he listened to Scotty and McCoy start a debate on the why a cold country like Scotland went knee length while a hot place like Georgia wore full length skirts and all the while Spock kept a possessive hand on McCoy's waist.

Yes, he thought to himself, everything was just as it should be.


End file.
